


now it's noisy, i don't wanna hear no more

by ohcouldyoutellme



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Asexual Bang Chan, Gen, Kinda?, NOTHING IS SEXUAL, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Non-sexual dom/sub, Or romantic, Praise Kink, Subspace, it's all friendship, not mentioned but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 15:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17583074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohcouldyoutellme/pseuds/ohcouldyoutellme
Summary: Chan is so stressed all the time. He can't sleep. He's always working. He just wants to be told what to do, so he isn't the one making the decisions for once. Woojin, Changbin, and Minho are always there for him.





	now it's noisy, i don't wanna hear no more

Chan feels like he’s drowning.  
There are days when everything is just too much. Days when he stumbles over his own feet, when he can’t form coherent words, when music just adds to the crescendo of panic and anxiety inside his head.  
On those days, he knows who to turn to. He finds Woojin, or Changbin, or Minho, and he lets himself relax as he is told what to do.  
“It’s alright, Chan,” Woojin whispers. “You’re okay. Breathe for me, alright?”  
Chan can’t. His breaths are coming so quickly that it almost feels like he’s not breathing at all.  
“Listen to me,” Woojin orders. “Chan. Open your eyes.” His sharp tone jolts Chan out of his stupor. His eyes fly open. “Breathe with me,” Woojin says. “Count in your head. One, two, three, four. One, two, three…”  
Chan’s breathing slowly returns to normal. Woojin softly scratches his scalp. “Okay,” he says, voice steady. “You’re going to listen to me, right, Channie? You’re going to be a good boy?”  
Chan nods. Woojin gently tugs at his hair, a reminder. Chan swallows and whispers, “Yes, Woojin.”  
Woojin pecks his forehead, a silent reward. “You’re going to lie down, Channie,” he says. “And you’re going to breathe as I tell you to.”  
He carefully lays down. Woojin’s hand slips into his, giving him courage, because this tiny thing still feels so difficult. “Close your eyes,” Woojin whispers next to his ear, warm breath ticklish. His eyes slip closed, easy. “Now breathe with me.” Chan’s breaths go in and out, a steady whooshing rhythm that lulls him deeper into subspace.  
Chan and Woojin breathe together for at least five minutes. Chan’s command of time has slipped from between his fingers. He feels tired, like he could fall asleep, but Woojin hasn’t told him to, so he won’t. When it’s just the two of them, doing this, he only knows Woojin’s quiet commands. If Woojin told him to stop breathing, he would, for as long as he possibly could.  
Finally, Woojin says, “You’re good now, Channie. Open your eyes...Look at me...That’s it. You’re so good, Channie, such a good boy for me.” He reaches for a blanket and wraps it around Chan. “Do you want to sleep now, Channie? You want to cuddle with me?”  
“Yes, please, Jinnie,” Chan begs, drowsy but desperate for physical contact.  
Woojin smiles at him. “Okay, Channie,” he says. He lies down next to Chan and burrows under the blankets, wrapping his arms around him. “You can sleep now, Channie. It’s okay. You’re safe.”  
Chan feels himself slipping. Before he can fall, he mumbles, “Thanks, Jinnie. Love you.”  
“I love you too, Channie,” Woojin says, gently kissing his temple. “Good night.”  
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
Chan feels like he’s floating.  
He’s not tethered to the ground. The things that worry him, that usually weigh on his shoulders like a billion kilos, feel so far away. The only thing that’s keeping him from just flying away is Changbin’s soft, warm hand in his. It’s a comfort, and a reminder. Changbin is here. He is safe, with Changbin.  
Subspace is an exhilarating feeling, but if he gets too lost in it, he might just go higher and higher and never come down. That’s why he needs them, Woojin and Changbin and Minho.  
They were at an awards show. Chan had been fine, but after they performed, he just couldn’t get himself to calm down. He was still feeling the bass rattle his bones, seeing the lights shining on him, hearing the screams and cheers, almost deafening in his ears. He was jittery, and falling into the throes of panic, but then Changbin had grabbed his elbow, said something to Woojin, and pulled him away into a bathroom. He locked the door, sat with Chan on the floor, and led him through breathing exercises, whispering soft affirmations in his ear.  
When he’s calmed down, Changbin tells him, “If you can make it through the rest of the awards, we can just stay in our room until tomorrow. You can go all the way into subspace. We can cuddle. Whatever makes you feel better. Could you do that for me, Chris?”  
Chan rarely gets quiet time. He has so many things to do-as a member of an idol group, he would be busy anyway, but he’s also the leader and the main writer and producer for the group, so he is always occupied. The prospect of time alone with Changbin is beautiful.  
So he nods and whispers, “Yes, Changbin.”  
“There’s a good boy,” Changbin murmurs. “You’re a good boy, Chris. You’ll be fine. We’re not nominated for any more awards. You just need to make it through two more hours of this, okay? And then we can go home.”  
Home. “I can do it, Binnie,” Chan promises.  
“I know you can, Chris,” Changbin says, standing and pulling him to his feet. “You’re my good boy, right? Let’s do this.”  
The last two hours or so fly by. There are performances and speeches. Chan doesn’t pay much attention, but he claps when everyone else does. He even manages to talk with a few other idols when they engage him in conversation.  
Finally, they climb into the van. Changbin sits next to him, tracing patterns on the back of his hand. They arrive at the dorm. Changbin makes him eat before finally, they retreat to their room. Changbin lies next to him, whispering in his ear, gently rubbing his back.  
Chan sniffs. “Love you, Binnie,” he slurs from his sleep-heavy mouth. “G’night.”  
“I love you too, Chris,” Changbin says. “Get some rest now, okay? We have things to do tomorrow.”  
He falls into the gentle haze of sleep.  
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
Chan feels like crying.  
He doesn’t, though. He’s stronger than that.  
He’s been bad today, worse even than on his usual bad days. It’s different, too. Instead of not being able to think, he’s thinking too much, too fast. It’s overwhelming. These days are very rare for him. They only happen once or twice a year, and this is the first one since his arrangement with Woojin, Changbin, and Minho started.  
He tries to write, but he has too many ideas. He writes down two words, and then he forgets where he was going and chases another idea. He hopes a few hours of dance practice will help him calm down, but although his body is tired, his mind is as worked up as ever. Minho ends practice early and pulls him away to an empty practice room.  
“You need to calm down, Chan,” he says.  
Chan wants to cry. “I’m sorry, Minho,” he says. “I can’t.”  
Minho’s eyes darken. “You can’t?”  
“No, I can’t, my, my head won’t stop, it’s too loud-” He babbles on, switching randomly between Korean and English, barely registering Minho telling him to stop talking and not able to obey.  
Minho’s hand covers his mouth. He stops with a gasp.  
“Stop talking,” Minho says firmly. “You’re going to work yourself into a panic attack.”  
Chan sobs. He wants to apologize, but Minho told him to stop talking, and he just wants to be good.  
“Are you going to talk if I move my hand?” Minho asks. Chan quickly shakes his head. Minho moves his hand. “I need to punish you,” Minho says. His voice is soft, but stern. “You didn’t listen to me. Do you understand that?” Chan nods again. “Answer me verbally,” Minho commands.  
“Yes, Minho,” Chan whispers.  
Minho pulls a piece of cloth out of his pocket and wraps it around Chan’s head, covering his eyes. “Down on your knees,” he orders. Chan gets down on his knees. “I need to practice. You are going to stay right here and be quiet. Okay?”  
Chan nods. Minho pats him on the shoulder. Chan imagines his smile, and it gives him strength. “Be a good boy, baby,” Minho whispers, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. And then he walks away.  
Minho is usually the one who handles his punishments. He doesn’t need them often. He’s generally very pliant and obedient, except for when they’re doing actual Stray Kids stuff. But when he does need it, Minho usually does it. He’s the best at ignoring Chan, no matter how pathetic he looks.  
Chan drifts. The floor is hard. It’s the only thing keeping him grounded. He hears Minho’s feet hitting the floor as he dances and music playing. The world is dark. His mind is hazy. Despite everything, he feels better. Maybe the solution to his problem wasn’t to do something, but to do nothing.  
He doesn’t know how long he kneels there. His muscles ache, and it’s kind of terrifying to be alone-well, kind of alone-in the dark. But at the same time, he knows it’s what he needs, and it feels right. The noise in his head has stopped.  
Finally, the music stops, and Minho walks over to him. He unties the blindfold. The lights are dim. Chan blinks.  
“Good job, baby,” Minho coos. “You did so well. I’m proud of you.” He sits down and pulls Chan onto his lap. Slowly, he comes back into himself. The haze that had settled over everything fades.  
He looks up at Minho. “I-I was good?” he asks in a small voice. It’s stupid-at least, it feels stupid-but after he’s punished, he always needs affirmation that he’s done well.  
“Yes, baby,” Minho answers him. “You were a good boy. The best boy.”  
Chan buries his head in Minho’s chest. “Thanks, Minnie,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”  
Minho shakes his head. Chan can’t see it, but he can feel it. “It’s okay, baby,” he says. “I understand it can be hard to turn your brain off sometimes. I’m glad I could help you.”  
Chan feels himself falling asleep in Minho’s warm, safe embrace. Minho picks him up gently and carries him. They eventually arrive at the dorm. Minho sets him down in a bed and climbs in next to him.  
He kisses Chan’s forehead and whispers, “I love you, baby.”  
“Love you too, Minnie,” he mumbles. He fumbles for Minho’s hand. Minho grabs his and squeezes tightly. It’s a promise to never let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Voices by Stray Kids.  
> I don't even know what this is, really, but when you get a sudden burst of inspiration, you follow it, right?  
> Although it isn't mentioned, Chan is ace in this, and possibly on the aro spectrum as well. Anyways, nothing about his relationships with Woojin, Changbin, and Minho is sexual or romantic in the least. They just care about him very much and are willing to do anything to help him.  
> If anyone is interested in a sequel, and if you have any ideas, please let me know. I'll consider writing it.  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
